


Mitikune's Minibook!

by mitikune



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Breakups, Existentialism, Healing, Light Angst, M/M, Moving On, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29660838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitikune/pseuds/mitikune
Summary: just a bunch of little blurbs/drabbles that i probably won't ever finish or go anywhere with that i'm too proud to let go of hsndjg <33
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 8





	1. constellations

Dream couldn’t do much else besides think.

It’s all he’s done the past four years, and it’s all he’s ever done. 

_It was entirely too cold to be swimming right now,_ he told himself as he stuck one leg into the water. _You’re being stupid, and you’re gonna get sick,_ he argued, sinking down to his torso in the crystal clear and crisply cold water. _Aren’t you supposed to have high IQ?_ he scorned, eyes closing as he sank below his shoulders. 

The water was cold. It was freezing, actually; and Dream himself was already cold. He wasn’t swimming because he was warm on a hot summer day, as one typically would. He was dousing himself in cold water just to feel anything at all. To think anything other than--

_George._

Dream would have winced, had this been only a few months prior, like the name stung him physically. But it didn’t. Not anymore, not exactly. It hurt, yeah. Of course it did. It’d always hurt, he imagined, for the rest of time. But it wasn’t a slap in the face anymore.

He’d call that progress.

Instead of wincing, Dream took a deep breath as he moved his body’s position to float to the top of the water, staring up at the starry sky above him. He took a deep breath, and let it out in a slow hiss, exhaling for as long as he possibly could. He imagined it around a minute straight, before he took a shallow breath in again.

He began to take deeper breaths when he was sure he wouldn’t sink, eyes locked onto the moon. It was so large and vast, sparkling, it lit up an otherwise impossibly dark world. He wondered if George was looking at the moon, too.

_“Did you like the constellations?”_

_“They’re beautiful,” Dream had replied, staring up at them. “It’s insane how every little individual star ties together to form a bigger picture.”_

_“Doesn’t it really help with the weight of insignificance?” George smiled, and Dream imagined letting George’s head fall onto his shoulder. Being so close to him. So warm. Craving something that he’d never experienced, but knew he needed, more than anything else. “It’s hard to think that you as an individual in 7 billion don’t matter, because each tiny star is connected, somehow.”_

_“I never thought about that. So do you think we’re all connected, too?” Dream asked, “somehow?”_

_“Somehow,” George replied over the phone. His voice was closer to the mic now, which meant that he’d lay down beside his phone, actually holding it to his ear now instead of speaker. “And I’m glad that whatever it is lead me to you.”_

Yeah, it definitely still hurt.

  
  



	2. the universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this fic felt too much like homework to me HBFSJNDG so take it and if you'd like to finish it, lmk! tag me, give credit and i'd love to read it :))

The world is so large. Once upon a time, sailors thought that it extended only as far as the eye’s reach of the horizon. We, generations later, discovered that it’s round. That if you didn’t know any better and simply walked in a straight line forever, it would feel infinite. Earth alone’s surface area is 192.9 million square miles, and it is home to over 7.8 billion people. 

Earth is the fourth  _ smallest _ planet in the solar system.

Beyond us, beyond our world, there’s the solar system. Beyond that, there’s the Milky Way, and further out is… uncharted territory. Light years of uncharted land, vast masses of “nothingness.” We think we’re the only lifeforms in existence, but as far as what? Our galaxy? Just our solar system?

Who’s to say what’s out there in that much empty space? Is it even empty?

There’s nothing larger known to mankind than the universe. And logically speaking, how could something even  _ be _ larger than the universe? Materialistically, it’s near certain that nothing can be. However, there are things that can be compared to its vastness that aren’t fathomable items.

Feelings, for example.

In a sense, he could understand some of it. The analogy of having a sadness so dense it feels as though the entire world is pressing down against your frail shoulders. The primal sense of anxiety that one would get by staring out and into a lifeless void of dark space. The excitement and joy that could be compared to the brightness of the stars in the galaxy. 

There was always one in particular that stuck with him, though.

Love.

You’ve heard it said before; someone loving someone to the moon and back. They may argue something of a greater distance, and on and on, and before anyone knows what happened, suddenly they’re saying that their love is akin to the entire universe. 

George, for one, always thought that was fucking ridiculous, to put it lightly. 

He, who knows of the true and absolute extensiveness of their words, held back a laugh. He understood that it was just the way humans spoke, as they often did, speaking before processing, realizing or thinking about what their words implied. George always tried not to do that. He always tried to be so careful with what he said. He got good grades in school, he felt he had to carry himself like he knew what he was talking about. And he did, in almost every case. This one was no exception.


	3. the fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is one of the things that i wrote that i'm SO fucking proud of but have no idea what to use it for. so, i'm just gonna drop it here !

“I wish I’d never met you.”

It was the late nights on the phone, furrowed eyebrows and burning eyes. A word that blew to life the ever-simmering embers, a reply that stoked it to a flame, a rising, sharp tone that turned a flame to a gas-lit wildfire, lit from both ends.

Fire.

The way they went to bed, throats stinging and burning with the strain of screaming words neither of them meant. It was as if they could feel the inflicted pain from the source. Mutual feelings of burning alive in the heat of the moment, frantically spitting fire to try to extinguish themselves, but only sharpening the flame. 

Destruction.

It was cracked phone screens, dents in the walls, waking up with salt-crusted eyelashes. It was throwing the phone at the wall, sprinting out into the street, letting the freezing rain wash over their shoulders and scream into the abyss of the night. It was breakdowns where only the amber-glow of streetlights could see the shame. It was coming inside, drenched to the bone, making themselves as physically sick as their relationship felt. 

Ashes.

It was the mornings after. The apologies. The sickeningly sweet words of love and encouragement. The pleadings for another try. The unwillingness of discussion, to the things that matter most. The sweetness, the care, the love; as it all came flooding back.

“You don’t mean that.”


End file.
